


Never Let Me Go

by WhiteHorse



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Odin is not all bad, Sad, Sweet, cuteness, little loki, little thor, sometimes funny
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-04
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 08:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteHorse/pseuds/WhiteHorse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is a child and doesn't understand the deeper purpose of his life and why he does not fit in, why he is not meant to fit in. He is just a pawn in the game of war and peace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. no fighting

Loki was six- years- old and had been determined too small to begin battle training. It felt like a terrible injustice to him, especially since Thor had been allowed to train and spar when he had turned six.

Thor had begun his training over a year and some few months earlier. Loki excitedly cheered for his brother from outside of the sparring ring eagerly waiting for his own chance to fight in the circle. 

Thor had been generous with his newly discovered skills and often engaged Loki in a play-battle. At the start, the older boy had been enthusiastically rough with his younger brother, causing Loki's slight body to bruise and lump. Loki never complained; he enjoyed the play, even when it hurt and he believed that it might prepare him for his own training.

When Thor's wooden sword had sliced into his lip and the torn skin pulsed blood down his chin, Loki bore the pain without a whimper. Thor called him brave. Loki's small chest puffed with pride and he was determined that he would not to let a tear fall from his welling eyes as the cut was stitched. Thor told him that he would be a great warrior when the time came.

It was Frigga who first scolded Thor when Loki came to the evening meal with purpling bruises on his face and arms. Thor had ignored her chastisement, though Loki enjoyed her attention and pushed his sore lip out a bit until she embraced him.

While Thor shrugged from his mother’s embraces and distressed petting, Loki reveled in it. He would often point out a small wound with large eyes, thrusting out his arms toward her. He would nuzzle his face into her neck when she plucked him from the ground to cuddle him warmly. 

Thor often wondered if the reason Loki didn't mind getting hurt was so that he could offer his wounds to their mother in exchange for time spent in her arms.

Frigga's words had done nothing to soften Thor's ardor for their play battles and Loki was glad of it. Loki loved to imagine and romp with his brother, but only slightly less than he enjoyed his mother’s kisses, though he would never admit it.

Thor excelled in his training and Odin started to come to the practices so that he could witness Thor's progress first hand.

Odin beamed with pride to see Thor's young strength blossom and Loki enjoyed holding the father's hand or sitting, trembling with excitement, on the All Father's knee when he had come to view the competitions.

Thor was very good at fighting and Loki would often get so caught up in the thrill that his feet would stray into the ring, wanting to join his brother.

If Odin were present, he would jerk Loki's arm back roughly and put a hand on his shoulder to steady him. At first Loki was afraid that the father was angry with him, but when he peered back through hooded lashes, he saw only protectiveness in the All-Father's eyes. There was no malice in his gaze.

Loki would obediently stay by Odin's side after these reminders, more determined to make the father proud than to watch his brother fight. Loki hoped that one day the All Father would look upon him with the same prideful scrutiny he placed on Thor.

It was only a week after Loki's lip had been stitched that Odin came upon his sons in the courtyard immersed in battle. Odin snatched Thor up from atop his brother by the back of his tunic with a growled reprimand.

Loki stumbled to his feet awkwardly watching the All Father with frightened eyes as he held Thor by the collar, "You mustn’t teach your brother to fight," The All Father softened, releasing his hold and placing a gentle hand upon Thor’s shoulder, his single eye unblinking and earnest, "He is not like you."

Loki's brow wrinkled in anger. He knew that it was wrong to speak back to the All Father but the words would not stay locked in his chest, they bubbled out of his mouth in a rush before he could think.

"I am not weak father, I can fight!" Loki shouted, he thumped his small foot on the floor obstinately.

Odin's eyes narrowed.

Loki balled his hands into fists at his sides furiously. He clutched his wooden sword and followed his statement with a passionate claim that he would be the fiercest warrior in Asgard one day. As soon as the announcement left his lips he stuck out his chest and tried to make himself look menacing, furrowing his brow and narrowing his own eyes in defiance to Odin.

Thor gaped in awe of Loki's boldness to stand before their father with such fury and he worried for his little brother.

Odin set his mouth into a firm line. He stepped forward and plucked the wooden sword from Loki's babyish hand and stared down the dark haired, mite of a boy until Loki had to look away, his heart pounding furiously in his chest.

Loki scowled despite being desperately fearful when the father grasped his narrow wrist in an enormous palm, pulling him from the courtyard. Loki looked back to catch a glimpse of Thor's sorrowful face before he left his sight.

Loki had to skip his feet to keep up with the All Father’s long strides as he was wrenched down a hallway and into the bedroom he shared with Thor. 

Upon reaching the bed, Odin sat precariously on the edge and pulled his little child to stand in front of him. 

Loki tried to be brave, but he trembled despite his will. The All Father was like a mountain before him, so large and mighty. Loki kept his gaze down at his diminutive, black boots until Odin lifted his child’s quivering chin with a colossal finger. Loki's green eyes swam with tears as the All Father surveyed him without expression.

"Think you it is permitted to rebuke thine own father little Odinson?" Odin questioned the boy softly.

Loki quickly shook his head in the negative, shaking a tear loose from the corner of his eye and frowned at his own weakness and fear.

Wishing to spare the child and yet maintain his authority, Odin quickly draped the boy over his immense lap and gave Loki two tempered slaps upon his small backside with his powerful hand. 

Though the swats were light, they stung the slight boy mightily. The pain of his flesh, however, could not match the pain of Loki's heart at his beloved father’s action. It was more than the boy could bear and he burst into tears. 

All he had wanted was for the All Father to give him that look of pride he had reserved only for Thor, now he was certain that he had committed a grievous sin and he would never again be in Odin's good favor.

In his heart, Loki had believed that if he were strong and could fight like Thor, perhaps Odin would not mind that Loki was smaller than the other boys and did not resemble him as Thor appeared to.

Odin righted his delicate child and clutched him against his breast, desiring to calm this boy who had both charmed his heart and tore at his soul in the same breath. He was ever doubtful of his choice to take the babe from so foreign a world and raise him alongside his heir, his blood.

Odin had his purpose. This child was meant to restore peace. If there would ever be peace in the universe Odin knew that he must make an ally of his enemy. Loki must never match Thor in power or ability, lest this hope for peace be ruined. The boy must grow to submit to Asgard and its authority, then and only then would Odin destroy Laufey and place his heir on the throne. He would no longer have to worry over the ice planet and its destructive ways.

If his sons were ever to war with one another, Thor would need to win, to conquer his brother in might, in fame and in mind, for the good of all realms.

Odin’s brooding thoughts were interrupted when Loki's small hand reached up to nervously stroke the All Father’s beard, something he had done since his infancy for comfort. Odin's heart softened at the endearing motion. He brushed Loki's back as tenderly as one would stroke the down of a baby bird until the boy fell asleep, fingers buried in the thicket of Odin's beard.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

 

Loki awoke in the twilight to the sound of Thor's heavy steps approaching their bed.

"Loki?" He whispered harshly in the darkening of the room. Thor clutched an energy ball in his palm that gently illuminated his face, "Loki are you well?" Thor whispered harshly. 

The light burned Loki's eyes causing him to wince and cover them, "Yes brother." Loki’s sleepy voice croaked out.

Thor set the ball on the small table next to the bed and crawled into the bed encompassing Loki with his thick arms. The slender boy tucked his head under Thor's chin.

"I am regretful," Thor sighed into Loki’s dark hair, "it was never my intention to harm you in our duel, do you believe me brother?" Thor could only guess at the reason his father was so angry with their playing. Surely it must be the same concern their mother had expressed.

Loki bristled. "I am unharmed. I would have defeated you if father had not prevented us from finishing our battle."

Thor pulled Loki closer to his chest and grinned in the dark. He adored his much smaller brother's fervor. Loki did not see himself the way others did, in his mind he was not small and weak. 

Thor determined that he would still engage his brother in battle, though he knew he must learn to be gentle. He could feel Loki's bird-like bones under his own brawny hands. Even though he was just over a year older than his brother, his body engulfed Loki's.

"What did father say to you?" Thor whispered curiously in the dark.

"Not to speak out of turn to him," Loki replied stiffly, and added, "then he struck me two-fold upon my backside." 

Thor gasped. The All Father had never struck him. 

"He should not have struck you Loki; it was my doing that caused you to be in trouble." Thor didn't know what else to say to comfort him, so he simply held Loki until his slighter body slacked and they both fell asleep.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • 

 

Loki was flushed with excitement when the day of his sixth year arrived. He was certain that he would finally be allowed to properly train. He could even have a real spar with his brother if he wished. No longer would he be coddled and sheltered from preparing for battle like other Asgardian boys.

Thor was happy for him as well, it would be enjoyable to have his brother rightly train with him, even if he was rather puny.

Loki babbled joyously at the morning meal, eager for it to finish so that he could try on armor and receive his beginner weapons.

Odin regarded his youngest with quiet scrutiny from across the table until Loki seemed to feel the weight of his thoughts and became silent. When the boy swallowed thickly and gave Odin a tremulous smile, there was such hope in his eyes that the All Father felt humbled by it. 

When the meal was over, Odin rose from the table and took Loki by the hand to the training grounds as Thor followed behind watching Loki grin happily at their father.

Loki felt important; the All Father was taking him to the armory himself. Loki couldn't have been more pleased. Odin had not gone with Thor to see him fitted with armor.

His mood altered when, after an hour, the trainers could not find mail or a plate that did not dwarf Loki's thin limbs and narrow chest.

Loki looked to his father, stricken to see it darkened with an indistinguishable concern.

Thor came to his brother's side then, putting an arm around Loki's shoulders, "I suppose we should have Loki special-made armor won’t we Father?" he paused looking at his brother's crestfallen expression, "Then it will be all yours Loki, just think, you will be the only boy with brand new armament."

Loki tried to smile at Thor, it was a kind thing to say and Loki knew it. He tried to lift his head from where it was hanging in shame but he simply could not.

"No…" Odin's deep voice rumbled, "I think not."

Loki swallowed painfully past the lump in his throat and didn't dare look up, fearful of how the All Father would look on him like a pitiful weakling.

"Loki is not meant for battle," Odin decreed. The All-Father turned his back and began walking back, back to the castle. "Come Loki," he said, not even looking behind him to see if the boy was following.

Loki did follow, tears dripping silently off of his chin. Thor trailed behind him, his seven-year-old heart aching for his brother's pain.

When they reached the throne room, Odin turned his eye to the dejected form of his youngest and dismissed Thor gently. 

Thor refused to leave at first, reaching out to hold Loki's hand but relented at the sharp look his father cast upon him.

When Thor's echoing steps left the hall, Odin bent to his knee and opened his arms to embrace Loki's fragile body and bruised soul. Loki entered into the circle of the father's arms, his hurt overflowing.

"Precious child," Odin rumbled into the shell of Loki's ear, "I mean not to cause you sorrow," He meant it, Odin was never so gentle with anyone but this child in his arms. "You have another purpose."

Loki did not take courage at the words, his spirit was crushed. He only burrowed deeper into the father's chest for comfort. He wanted to fight with Thor, he wanted to be Thor, anyone but Loki, who is not like the other boys of Asgard.

Odin felt his cruelty keenly; it would not be difficult to make Loki his own little set of armor. The All Father wanted to smile at such an image, his tiny boy with the heart of fire, dressed in battlements made for his reedy limbs and scant chest. He shook the thought from his head quickly.

He remembered when he found this little god, blue and dying on that frozen world.

Odin remembered what he had stolen the babe for…peace; there had been enough battle, enough war.

Loki's hand was again at Odin's beard and tucked his head beneath it to hide from the world where he knew he did not belong. 

"Father," Loki finally chokes the word out, "why must I be so…unlike…Thor?" 

Loki does not know how to ask what his mind wonders. Why was no one like _him_?

Odin had no answer for this so he said nothing.

Loki knew this meant that he would never be as important as his brother.

He stayed behind Odin's beard where it was white like snow and his heart begged for the Father to love him though he would never be Thor.

 

Tbc…


	2. piece of cake

Loki ran after Thor, gleefully shrieking down the corridors and ducking behind marble pillars. He was no longer allowed to wield his wooden sword, though Thor still gave him one when they were hidden away from prying eyes.

Thor did not think Heimdall would tell on them.

"You cannot catch me brother!" Thor shouted, though he intended to let Loki do just that. 

Loki had been withdrawn, hiding away in their room ever since the day Odin denied him the six-year right of battle training. He had had even stopped attending Thor's sparing practices.

When Thor had asked Loki why he no longer came, Loki’s green eyes would lower in shame. So, Thor stopped asking, even though he missed showing off his battle skills and hearing his little brother’s excited cheers from the sidelines.

Thor grinned as he turned another corner letting Loki's desperate strides nip at his heals. It had been some time since he had heard the sound of Loki’s laughter.

Frigga leaned out of the entryway of her chambers, a warning dying on her lips as she watched Loki chase after his brother. She didn't want to spoil their game, so she said nothing and smiled as he dashed passed her.

The two boys were different in every way, but as she watched them together she knew that her love for them both remained the same, one she had birthed from her womb, the other born of her heart.

When Odin had at last returned from war not so many years ago, he lacked one eye but brought with him something far more precious. She had eagerly accepted the small, weakly crying bundle that he passed down to her from his horse.

As a result of their long-lives, children were few among the gods to maintain their population. Her beloved Thor was just abandoning his infancy and she was mourning the loss of him as a tiny babe. This new life was small and frail, gasping his last breaths in her arms. She plied him with milk and he looked upon her with such deep need that her heart was forever lost.

In those days, when Thor was just beginning to discover a world outside of his mother, Loki's skin would turn blue and cold if she withheld her caress for too long. His tiny limbs would thrust out as he squalled for her. She would pick him up and he would again turn pink and warm in her hands, cooing with contentment.

He had always been filled with such want, had always been hungry for her touch. He was never secure in her attention and a day had not pass without him seeking her comfort in some way, no matter how slight. Some days it would only be so much as holding a cluster of her dress in his fist to assure him that she was truly there.

On especially lonely days when Thor would spend the day with his newly made friends, Loki would wait impatiently for evening to come because he knew that his mother would steal into the boys' bedchambers and kiss them goodnight. Odin often protested that they were too old for such treatment. Loki could not get enough. He would often fuss that there was an angry beast 'neath the bed that might devour him if his mother left.

Frigga would smile at his longing for her and stay with him until his wide, worried eyes would drift shut and his slender hand would slack in hers.

So, instead of telling Loki to slow, to be careful, Frigga smiled to see her youngest so joyful.

She was grateful that Odin had denied Loki battle training, for she no longer hat to worry that the brutish children of their kind might grievously wound her fragile child on the training ground. 

Although, Frigga now realized that instead of his body being harmed, his spirit had been wounded with the further separation from the other boys of the Kingdom.

Thor turned around another corner where the corridor abruptly ended. He slowed his steps and Loki trounced upon his back. 

"I have captured you Thor!" Loki shouted victoriously.

Thor fell to his knees and rolled onto his back, holding Loki by his thin arms, aloft in front of him. 

"You are my prisoner now Thor," Loki declared. "You must do what I say!"

"Oh yes mighty warrior?" Thor asked, snickering at the seriousness in Loki's face. "What do you say then?"

Loki looked thoughtful for a moment, his finger pressed to his lips, "I say we must have cake!"

Thor's eyes brightened at this. He liked the idea of cake very much. "Should we ask mother for cake now Loki? I am hungry too," he asked.

"Nay prisoner!" Loki shouted, jabbing a finger into the air, "We shall rescue our cake from the dungeon!"

Thor beamed; Loki always initiated the best games.

Loki made great sport of sneaking to the palace kitchens. He informed Thor that the halls were an enchanted forest filled with all sort of monsters and pitfalls. Loki saved Thor from a lake bubbling with lava and Thor slew a giant invisible beast that had been about to snatch Loki in its talons.

Loki, in a show of gratitude, promoted Thor from prisoner to slave. 

Thor rolled his eyes.

When the boys reached the vast kitchen, the room was empty and cold, the fire had long been put out from cooking the afternoon meal.

Loki started to sneak in with careful footsteps, still caught up in his imaginary game; Thor straightened and pushed him aside when he noticed a tray of tarts sitting on the cold hearth of the oven.

Loki frowned at being pushed aside so roughly but followed his brother over to the tray. 

Thor poked their fleshy tops and sucked his finger clean of the sticky purple fluid that oozed out of the slit in the top. 

"Nassari Berry," he informed Loki. 

"They are uncooked." Thor sighed in disappointment.

Loki noticed the pile of wood next to the hearth and picked up a log. It was awkward trying to hold it in his small hands so he tucked it under the crook of his arm and used his other hand to boost himself upon the hearth and climbed into the hollow of the oven.

"Loki," Thor murmured, "What are you doing?"

"I am starting a fire so that we can cook the tarts," Loki stated simply.

"Oh," Thor looked at his brother curiously, Loki seemed confident enough; "You know how to do that?"

Loki smiled to himself; he wanted to pretend to know something that Thor did not to impress his older brother who always seemed to know more than he.

"Of course I do, don't you?" Loki asked with his nose just slightly in the air.

"No." Thor admitted watching his soot covered brother climb out of the oven to fetch another log.

After the third log, Loki suddenly wondered how he would make the wood burn.

He stared at his small arrangement, trying to prevent Thor from realizing that he actually did not know how to create fire. His hands were blackened by soot and he tried to scrub them clean on his leggings, stalling for time.

"Don't you need this Loki?" Thor asked, passing his brother a striking stick, he had seen it used by the blacksmith several times.

"Oh…yes, thank you brother." Loki said taking the stick as though he knew it all along.

Thor looked at him expectantly as Loki tried to figure the device out. One end had a ball of gritty stone on it and he supposed that that was the place where fire came out. He stared hard at it, willing the end to catch fire.

"I think you are supposed to strike that end against the brick Loki." Thor informed him helpfully.

"I know that!" Loki retorted. "I was only inspecting it."

Loki dragged the rough end across the black bricks of the floor and sure enough, the stick sparked to life with flame. Both boys stared at the flickering light for a while before Loki came to his senses and dropped the stick onto the woodpile.  
The stick remained alight, but the logs did not burn.

Loki huffed and crossed his arms over his meager chest, "It is no use Thor, and this wood has gone bad."

"Maybe you can use these smaller bits," Thor pointed to the barrel of kindling next to the logs, "they look unspoiled."

Loki nodded and Thor handed him a bundle of the thin sticks. These caught aflame as soon as they were tossed on. 

Loki was mesmerized, "give me more of those bundles Thor!" Loki demanded excitedly. 

Two more bundles were tossed on and Loki scurried out of the oven as the heat quickly built. Loki helped Thor push the metal tray of deserts into the oven and they watched and waited for something to happen.

After a few minutes, Loki became disinterested with the waiting and decided to explore.

Drawers took both of his hands to open and he pulled on them with the heals of his boots dug in; each drawer held its own collection of treasures. 

The first drawer was filled with two pronged metal ‘swords’, the next, round metal ‘helmets’. Loki grabbed a pronged sword and placed one of the metal helmets on his head.

Thor turned to see Loki struggling with another drawer, a silver bowl over his dark hair, and decided to help him.

His stronger arms were no competition for the drawer and it came away from the trestle with force, tankards flew out and rolled about the floor. Loki fell onto his backside and looked around at the mess, then laughed and smiled at Thor from under his helmet.

There was a door on the far side of the room that stole Loki's interest. He stalked over to it, pulling it open mightily by it’s large handle. A blast of chilled air came over him he closed his eyes and took a deep breath; he loved the cold, this room felt like something sorely missed and long forgotten.

"Cake!" Thor proclaimed loudly from Loki's side.  
Loki opened his eyes and there it was, a frosted cake as big as the All Father's head, sitting upon a rack above a giant cube of ice.

"Our prize!" he shouted, rushing over, only to discover that the cake was unreachable, far too high above his head.

"Can you reach it Thor?" Loki finally asked, he wanted to be the one to conquer the cake but he would settle for just tasting it he supposed.

Thor tried to reach it, but it was well above his own head.

"Put me on your shoulders slave!" Loki demanded.

"No! I want cake too Loki." Thor frowned.

"I will hand you some cake brother, I swear it." Loki promised.

With that, Thor agreed and let Loki clamber onto his back and settle his slim legs over his brother's more substantial shoulders. Loki licked his lips as his face became level with the cake.

"Give me some Loki!" Thor groused.

Loki wasn't listening, he had mashed his mouth into the confection and it was filled with the cake's thick, sweet icing.

Thor smacked his brother's leg, "Loki! You must share, you promised!"

Loki looked at his hands, they were still coated black with soot, but he didn't see the harm as he grabbed a hunk off the side of the cake and handed it down to Thor.

His duty upheld; Loki put his mouth back to work munching on the cake.

"This tastes burnt." Thor complained; eating the soot covered chunk Loki had handed to him.

Thor decided that he didn't want any more odd-tasting cake and his neck was getting sore, he moved to put Loki down. Loki prodded him with his 'sword', "I am not finished slave!"

"I tire of this game," Thor sighed, putting Loki on his feet. His little brother's face was a mixture of soot and frosting, the metal bowl was askew on his head. Thor smiled at him fondly.

Suddenly there came a thunder of feet; the boys looked out of the ice closet to see that the kitchen was filled with smoke. 

Several members of the kitchen staff were covering their faces as they pulled the burned tarts from the oven.

Loki looked to Thor with wide eyes, "Let's stay in here Thor." He whispered harshly.

Thor nodded his agreement.

It did not seem to take long for the head cook to realize that the door to the cooling room was ajar and he uncovered them. Thor had the foresight to appear guilty while Loki was simply furious that they had been discovered.

The two miscreants were dragged before their mother, standing by as their list of wrongs were laid out before the queen. 

Frigga promised to deal with her children over the matter and the cook departed; satisfied that she would handle the matter.

"Thor and Loki Odinson!" She scolded, "What were you thinking."

Loki cringed at her anger, he remembered when he had spoken the truth in his heart to the All-Father, and he had been struck. His heart flooded with dread, he couldn't bear it if his mother struck him. How could he tell her the truth when it might lead to such a terrible thing?

Loki looked at her with wide, pleading eyes, covered in soot, with a ring of icing around his mouth, "It wasn't me mother!" He exclaimed.

Thor snorted at the spectacle his little brother was making, wringing his sticky hands together and denying blame.

Loki glared at him.

Frigga was not amused. "Loki, I will not abide your lying to me."

"But mother," He insisted, "I didn't do it!" He thought perhaps if he was adamant she would have no choice but to believe him.

When he saw she was unmoved, Loki turned to Thor for defense, "We didn't do it did we Thor!"

"Loki…," Thor looked at him as though he had lost his feeble mind and shrugged his shoulders.

Loki sulked.

Frigga was disheartened, "I want you both to bathe and you are to stay in your room tonight, perhaps a night without the evening meal with teach you to appreciate the work that is done to prepare it and how improper it is for you to help yourselves to what is not yours."

She looked pointedly at Loki, and finally, he ducked his head in shame.

"Now then," She continued, slightly mollified by Loki's blush. "Who started the fire?"

Thor's eyes slid to his brother. When Loki held his tongue, Thor spoke, "Loki said he knew how it was done mother."

Loki flashed Thor a betrayed glance before looking back down at his feet, seething with anger.

"You may go Thor." Frigga commanded, her eyes never leaving Loki's small, dejected countenance.

Thor exited quickly, grateful to be released from his mother's ire and the trouble that Loki was heaping upon himself.

"I am disappointed Loki." Frigga said sadly, shaking her head.

She watched his face crumple a bit before his lip stuck out stubbornly. 

"Lies are unbecoming and fire is a danger…have I not told you so?" She tried to catch his eyes and waited for an answer but none came.

His face soured even more. His mother had never felt the need to reprimand him so directly before and his stomach churned with worry.

"I will have an answer from you." Frigga demanded, growing irritated at her son's stoicism.

Loki's face heated but he could not bring himself to speak. He wanted to throw himself into her arms and have her smile and embrace him, to tell him that he was still loved even though he had disobeyed her.

"Very well," Frigga sighed, dismayed. "Go to your room, you may not come out until you apologize for your deception and reckless action."

Loki didn't spare her a look before he fled the room. Once outside her door he ran to his own room and thrust himself upon the bed, crying quietly with his dirty face pressed into his equally grubby hands.

Thor, whose own hands were now clean, sat on the bed and began to pat Loki's trembling back.

Loki shrugged him off.

"What happened Loki? Did mother strike you?" Thor asked, concerned.

"Go 'way Thor!" Loki hissed at him.

Thor did go away; long enough to wet a cloth to clean Loki's disgruntled face with.

Loki allowed his face and hands to be cleaned before he rolled with his back turned to Thor, jerking away from any further touches.

Frigga did not come that night to kiss her boys and wish them fond dreams. Loki remained huddled on his side, away from Thor in the dark that night, awake and miserable.

Thor lay awake as well, he was used to his brother whispering in the night to him long after he would fall asleep. It was too quiet for him to sleep without the constant chatter and he could take it no longer. 

Thor pulled Loki's shoulder until the smaller boy lie flat on the bed, looking angrily up at the ceiling.

"Loki? Will you be cross with me forever?" Thor asked with childish angst.

Loki sighed loudly and relented, "Mother thinks I'm a liar," his quiet voice trembled in the dark.

"Well," Thor shrugged, "you did lie."

"You told mother I started the fire." Loki accused.

"Well…you did." Thor felt badly despite this truth, he had helped after all.

"You didn't have to tell her!" Loki exclaimed.

Thor swallowed thickly, he felt badly for that.

"Now mother dislikes me," Loki croaked out, his heart fluttered like a bird in his chest at the thought.

"I am certain she likes you Loki," Thor tried to comfort.

When Loki sniffled and scrubbed at his eyes, Thor rubbed his small belly.

"I like you brother," Thor said hopefully. "I like you, please do not cry."

Loki hiccuped and tried to stifle his tears, rolling over to lie against Thor's chest. 

“Will you always?” Loki asked.

“Always.” Thor replied without hesitation.

Thor rubbed Loki’s back until he was too fatigued to continue the action and fell silent with sleep.

" _I_ do not like me." Loki whispered sadly into the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> I plan to add more chapters, if people like the story, I just don't know how to show more than one chapter in the masthead thingy. Any feedback is good feedback!


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